


Frenzy

by PascalSlickWrites



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 07:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19848661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PascalSlickWrites/pseuds/PascalSlickWrites
Summary: In a world where many of the main characters of Berserk do not exist, the fifth crimson behelit chooses a new owner and the horror starts anew.





	1. The Revelation

Arnold Fitzroy. Bastard son of the mad king Andrew Manley. Half-brother of Abbott and Elizabeth Manley. Beheader of the knight whom he is presently fighting. He ran a few steps further, cutting down enemy soldiers before thrusting his blade through a knight in front of him. He served as a mercenary under a mysterious and secretive leader. He tore down another knight. He fought largely fill a gap in his life. No, not some metaphorical hole in his soul that needed battle to fill, but rather a lot of free time which he had no trade to fill, and no one would take him on to teach him one. He skewered two more soldiers on his broadsword. Its tip pierced armor like butter. Its edge sliced men in two. It was a monster of a sword. And Arnold was a monster of a man. Without all the formal training he kept up with the mercenary band’s previous champion known only as the Mask. The Mask, at this moment, flew past Arnold and slit the throats of a few more knights.

“We are the knights of Tudor! Do not let those mercenary scum push us back!” one of the chiefs cried.

The mercenary scum pushed them back. They hewed and sliced and cut and stabbed. Suddenly, their leader flew into the battlefield on a white horse.  _ About time he showed up! _ Arnold grumbled as he tore apart a few more soldiers. The leader wielded a rapier expertly, stabbing through several enemies’ heads and hearts while Arnold more roughly obliterated his foes. Their leader also wore a mask of the same appearance as the Mask’s. It’s always been rumored that the two were siblings or lovers or something of the sort, but the two would neither confirm nor deny.

A volley of arrows suddenly came from overhead as they neared the castle. Many knights were hit and fell to the ground. Arnold’s arm was grazed by one, but his armor deflected the slight hit. The leader, however, narrowly dodged one that was headed towards his face. It hit the side of his mask and broke it, revealing his face. For the arrow’s not landing a killing blow, he thanked his lucky stars and his lucky charm. Everyone near him, including Arnold, were stunned. There sat upon a white horse wielding a rapier in a mercenary band Abbott Manley, heir to the throne. Even the enemy seemed taken aback. Abbott took that opportunity to strike down a few enemy soldiers. The archers let loose another volley of arrows. They continued to fight and push back. Finally they entered the castle and took it. Not much is to be said about the fight in the castle. Some of Abbott’s men died, some Tudor knights died, ultimately the fight was won, and it was Abbott and his band of mercenaries who did the winning.

Later came time to get paid. Arnold lingered at the back of the line, letting his comrades get their money first. His turn came, and he slammed his fist on the table. “How could you?!” he cried.

“Pardon?” Abbott replied.

“Don’t ‘pardon’ me! You are the heir to the Midland throne! You have all the money and armies in the world! Why do you hire a band of mercenaries like this?! Just send out your knights who are honorbound to defend you!”

“Excuse me, but why are you so angry? I’m giving you money to fight. I’m giving a lot of people jobs to fight, to gain glory and honor as well as money. What is angering you?”

“Because I could have been like you! I should have been like you, but since my mother wasn’t royalty, I’m stuck just being a lowly mercenary. While you, with all the advantages I wish I had, lower yourself to my level!”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t have all those advantages. I have been disowned by my father. Been accused of witchcraft.”

“That’s not it, brother,” said the Mask as she stepped into the scene.

“Mask, you needn’t--”

“Brother, let me,” she took off her mask as well. “I am Elizabeth Manley, sister of Abbott here. We were both disowned because of a prophecy Andrew received.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true. The prophecy said that one of his children would become greater than he himself, so he disowned us to prevent our becoming more powerful than him.”

“He wanted to kill us,” Elizabeth added, “but what little humanity he had left prevented him from doing so.”

“So you decided to become mercenaries? Seems a bit far-fetched for me?”

“And why are you a mercenary? You could easily take on a trade and live a much more peaceful life.”

“Well… since my mother was deemed mad, people thought I was much the same way, and refused to take me on as an apprentice.”

“Now doesn’t that seem far-fetched. Like madness is something that can be caught!” Elizabeth laughed.

“All the same, simple people think simply,” Abbott sighed.

“So… you mentioned something about witchcraft. Does that have anything to do with how you… you know… survive combat? I mean, I’m sure you’ve been taught the art of war, but still, you are a noble, not a knight.”

“Well, I was taught how to fight, though I should hardly consider war an art. And if it is, combat is certainly not a form of expression as much as the puppeteering and political side of war is. But yes, I do blame my lucky charm for much of my success. Supposedly, it is what is to make me become greater than my father, err, Andrew.”

Abbott reached under his shirt and pulled out a strange, red stone. It had all the features of a face, but they were distributed randomly across the surface of the stone.

“What the--”

“It is called a behelit, I think. That is what the witch said, anyway. She said as soon as I entered the hut with Andrew, she knew I was the one who should bear it.”

“I see. So, you have a creepy egg thing that makes you immune to flying arrows. Nice. I get it. Absolutely.”

“You don’t have to understand it. In fact, I hardly understand it myself. At first I put no stock in it, but now, I have to wonder if perhaps it truly has some power. Anyway, I should probably reintroduce myself to the band. And Elizabeth, since you have decided to remove your mask, you ought to as well.”

“Fine,” Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll go.”

And the two left Arnold with his thoughts.


	2. Nosferatu Zodd

The sarcastically named Band of the God-King were dining one night, and Arnold had taken his meal outside as was his wont. He did not enjoy overmuch the company of the other soldiers. As he was out eating, he caught sight of Gaiety, the only woman among them besides the only recently revealed Elizabeth. She was also sitting outside atop a small cliff. Arnold climbed up by her and asked her why she was eating alone.

“I usually do,” she said, brushing back her black hair. “It’s hard enough to make myself eat, let alone eat enjoy the company of others while I do.”

“Really? But eating is so good. It gives me the strength to fight!”

Gaiety chuckled. “Why do you want to fight? So much of what you do seems to be about fighting. You train harder than the rest, you forgo your free time to train more. Even at dinner you eat alone and then go off and train. Why do you desire to fight so much?”

“It’s all I have to do. No one will take me as their apprentice, and I just don’t have anything else to do.”

“That’s not it. Fighting is too much work, too much sorrow, too much risk of death just to be a timekiller. Besides, you train more than you need to, which isn’t consistent with someone who just fights to fill time.”

“I don’t know why I fight then. But I know I do, and I know I will do my damndest to be the best on the battlefield!” Pause. “Why do you fight? You joined a mercenary band for a reason.” Arnold’s voice went from nigh despairing to intense, to surprisingly soft.

“Well, it’s sad really. I want to die. Not as in I want to kill myself. I would rather live until I die, but I am fully prepared to die. I don’t see much purpose in this existence, and I am ready for the next one.”

“What if there’s nothing after this existence?”

“Then I’ll be at peace. My memories will no longer torment me.”

“Huh. May I--”

“No, you may not ask,” Gaiety said sharply.

Arnold nodded and looked forward, eating silently. Gaiety did not eat any more. Then up the hill came running two other soldiers. They were red-faced partially from the climb and partially from the beer. They were clearly in very high spirits, much different from the two already on the cliff.

“Hey! We usually *hic* notice you guys are gone from the dining hall, *hic* but today we actually saw where you went! We *hic* we thought you might want some company!” the shorter one with messy brown hair said in a swift and joyous manner.

“Yeah! *hic* And we thought you might want some company!” said the other tall and slender whose hair was nearly white.

“And…” Arnold looked to Gaiety quizzically, “who might you two be?”

“I’m Merry!” the shorter one cried. “And he’s Pippin!”

“Yeah! And I’m Pippin!” said Pippin.

While they talked and Arnold tried to politely decline their invitation to eat with him and Gaiety, Abbott sneaked up on them. “Come now, Arnold. Nobody should eat alone!”

The four jumped to attention, and Pippin and Merry bowed with a deep-voiced “My lord!”

“More like Witch-King.” Arnold muttered to Gaiety.

“Please, I am nobody’s ‘lord.’ I am just a soldier like the rest of you. This is why I never took my mask off.”

“Is it also why you never fought with us?” Arnold muttered again, trying not to be heard this time.

“Pardon?”

“I asked,” his voice grew shaky, “is that also why you never fought with us?”

“Well, that is because I had trouble keeping my mask on, to be honest.”

“Bull--”

“Fine, fine. I was afraid of dying. But this is heavy talk for not having intended it. Let us eat and drink and be merry! For tonight, we have nothing to fear!”

Just as he said that, a soldier came running up the hill. This one was red-faced and out of breath, this time solely because of the climb. Gregory was a large man, excellent for taking hits and dealing them, but not so much for running long distances.

“What is it?” Abbott asked.

“A wandering-- a wandering blade has-- has arrived. He… has demanded that we present our champion. He may join us… if he deems us powerful enough to be worthy of his help.”

“We’ll go.” Abbott stated. “Arnold, stay close.”

The group that was there followed Abbott to the middle of the camp where there stood a hulking mass of muscle and man. The figure’s eyes were bright orange and his hair was spiky and black. He wore nothing to speak of, but also bore no features to speak of. He wielded a massive broadsword. Though it was a couple times the size of any other soldier’s sword, it was proportionate to his size.

“Does anyone dare fight me!”

“I’m sorry, but our camp has two champions!” Abbott called out regally. “My sister and this man here!” He gestured to Arnold.

“Where hides your woman? I should like to have my way with her after I conquer your true champion!”

Arnold grit his teeth and drew his sword, but Abbott held him back. “Elizabeth. Come out here and face this behemoth.”

Elizabeth walked out. This was the first time Arnold had looked at her without feeling rage towards her, and she was… not especially pretty. She was muscular and her hair was long and messy. Her face was square and her features were a bit too far apart, and her chest was flat. But Arnold didn’t care much. He was ready to see her destroy this wandering blade.

“That’s your sister!” the monster laughed. “I’d rather fuck you! Let her fight me so I can kill her immediately.”

Elizabeth drew her longsword and rushed at him. He swung his sword around with surprising speed and disarmed her nearly immediately. He then brought his sword down on her, but she slid under his legs and leapt onto his back, pulling out her dagger and stabbing him repeatedly. After a few tries, he finally knocked her off against a wall. She tried to dart past him to get her sword again, but he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back. He tried grabbing at her clothes, but she managed to slip from his grip every time, but that would only last so long. Arnold couldn’t bear to stand by and watch. He glanced outraged at Abbott who looked on in horror, seeming completely helpless. He knew he was no match for the monster and seemed almost as though something else was holding him back. Arnold rolled his eyes and charged into the battle. The brute let go of Elizabeth and brought around his sword just in time to meet Arnold’s blade.

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you, scum! But it doesn’t matter, I’ll see that your legless body has a front-row seat to what I was planning to do.”

As his opponent was talking, Arnold drew his dagger and drove it into the thing’s stomach, but he caught Arnold’s hand before he could make contact and threw him backwards. Arnold got back up on his feet and rushed towards his enemy. The beast made his disarming move again, but Arnold held his own, and his sword sunk into the battered edge of the monster’s blade. Arnold then, in a swift fluid motion, managed to disarm the surprised adversary. He then thrust his blade into the thing’s heart. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

“That was a good move…” he grumbled. “You’ve actually managed to wound me. It’s been three-hundred years since someone has wounded me!” The creature grabbed the sword and Arnold and threw him backwards once again. Steam began emitting from him as the wound healed. “Perhaps now I can fight in my true form!” The man began to grow even bigger than his already hulking size. “I will tell you my name, so that you may have something to cling to as you descend into Hell!” The man’s face elongated and fur began to grow everywhere. Horns sprouted from his head. “I am Zodd! Known as Nosferatu Zodd, the God of the Battlefield!”

Soldiers nearby began gawking and whispering to each other, “Zodd?!” “Is that the actual Battlefield God?!”

But Arnold had had enough of this Zodd. He rushed at him again, but was merely brushed aside with a sweep of Zodd’s massive arm. The wind and steam from Zodd’s transformation blew the Abbott hitherto transfixed on his unconscious sister to the ground. His behelit necklace came out from under his shirt, and Zodd caught a glimpse of it and immediately halted his killing blow.

“It can’t be!” he cried. “A man like this wields the Egg of the King?!” He picked up and disarmed Arnold. “If you can be said to be a true friend of this man, then take heed,” he said to him with what appeared to be a joyful malevolence in his eyes. “When his ambition collapses, death will pay you a visit! A death you can never escape!”

“He is no friend of mine!” Arnold growled as he struggled in Zodd’s grip. “He’s a coward and a weakling! Relying on lucky charms to keep him alive in battle rather than his own perfected skill!”

“All the same. It only matters if he cares for you.” He looked towards Abbott and spoke again: “I will join your ranks. Your soldiers have done admirably, and I am to serve the one who bears the Egg of the King.” Zodd shrank back down and knelt before Abbott. Arnold grabbed his sword and came back to deal a killing blow, but Abbott held out his hand to stop him.

“I accept you into my army. But…” he drew his dagger and stabbed it into Zodd’s shoulder. “That’s for what you did to my sister. And you are not permitted to rape or pillage at all during this war. You are a soldier of the Band of the God-King now and that comes with certain expectations. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Zodd said, seemingly unaffected by the dagger still in his shoulder.

“Good.” Abbott pulled the weapon out, releasing a puff of healing steam. “Now go get acquainted with the soldiers.”

“Abbott!” Arnold cried after Zodd had left. “What are you thinking?!”

“We will need him. I can feel it.”

“All right, Witch-King.” Arnold spat before leaving and returning to the cliff where he had been sitting before. This time, however, he sat alone.


End file.
